#ario

Dust - from Kristofa and Niskania's story (hasn't got a real title yet)

Through his soil-based abilities, Kristofa easily found his way to the nearest Human settlement, a small and cozy town called Farren. Kristofa was awed by the abrupt change in scenery: a sea of trees and nature turning to rectangular tall homes made of stacked rocks or bark shaped to boards. A cold surface the Humans called glass covered the windows, dead grass or hard panes served as a structure called roofs. Not a single home arched into a dome. Not a single edifice was covered in vines and light. Here, what they called the moons shone down through the night, a vast expanse of darkness speckled with dust that they called stars.

For an instant that obstructed his throat, Kristofa remembered a story Niskania had told him when they were children. Something about 'little lights' and the 'bright eyes of the dark, one small and one large'. He knew that he was supposed to understand something; but Kristofa merely knew to keep staring, dumbfounded. Mesmerized.

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Glower - from Ario's story part 5, From the Depths

"Are you alright, Yosen boy? You look awful."

"I'm dying."

The person chuckled. Ario immediately recognized him. "You must be fine if you can joke like that," Triku said. His laughter turned abruptly to a pained gasp, but he carried on, "Soba, however, won't be. Not like this. Whatever happened to him,…" Triku paused, his heart pounding with concern and regret. "This is no longer your place."

Your place? No: our place; the place, Ario thought about and he ardently wished he wasn't, his eyes transfixed on the top bunk, that Soba had but days ago befouled with his disgustingly wrong feelings. He needed to remind Soba of his wrongness; of the only way in which he was allowed to be wrong. Ario gritted his teeth and sniffled. Memories stared and smiled and glowered at him, collided with each other, jumbled, fragmented;

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Night - from Fragments of Selessannea's memories

For the first time in my life, when Devon reached out to me, I pulled away.

"Leave me be," I remember blubbering at him.

"Selessannea," he replied, and hearing my name spoken with such kindness after hearing him yell out with such ferocity made me feel sick. "This place isn't safe for you—"

"Of course it isn't! You're here!"

I did not regret my words right away. In that moment, a terrible disgust had taken over me, as well as the realization that malia had been right all along. I did not see my palo – I did not see the tears in his eyes, nor the shock on his face. All I saw was the blood coating his clothes, and the monstrous fangs protruding between trembling lips. The smell of him – something unnatural that defied description – made me feel sick. In that terrible moment, I wanted but one thing: for Devon to get out of my life, forever.

When Devon left, I did not cry. He was already long gone when a strange, uncharacteristic thought crossed my mind: that if he were to take his life that night to atone for all of his wrongdoings, I wouldn't even care. He'd have gotten what he deserved.

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Pierce - from The Life in your arms

The girl’s gaze pierced the darkness. He could not see her, but he felt:

She was reaching out. Attempting – and, this time, the term was correct – to communicate with him. She desired something. Something beyond his comprehension; but, he thought, not out of the realm of his abilities.

Lan lifted his head and looked around – at the impenetrable darkness that surrounded him. An idea crossed his mind.

He held out his arms towards the girl – towards where she had last sat, at least – and closed his eyes. Lan took a deep breath, and gathered within himself all the tingling moisture flooding the air itself. Air turned liquid in his breath; power coursed through his veins like rivers unleashed. Through his eyelids, he saw light. With his mind, he saw a large globe of glowing water, spinning and swirling before him - and then he was the water, and he was spinning and swirling and diving and dancing, joyous, unimpeded.

He was water; and he was everything.